


Call It Grief Therapy (Though It Isn't)

by flitterflutterfly



Series: Tumblr Prompts [13]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Naruto
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Master of Death Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-23
Updated: 2015-01-23
Packaged: 2018-03-08 19:17:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3220406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flitterflutterfly/pseuds/flitterflutterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shikamaru may have avenged his mentor, but he still grieves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call It Grief Therapy (Though It Isn't)

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt from ariekka: _Something with Shikamaru, please? Gen/slash. Would be super cool if xover with HP_.
> 
>  **Warnings:** Discussion of canon character death and then non-canon character death happens.

Harry really needed to get a new job. Of course, he would if he could. But alas, the occupation of Master of Death and all that went with that wasn’t just something he could up and quit (nevermind the fact that he’d probably die if he did—a normal human body wouldn’t be able to survive the constant dimensional travel his went through without consent, not to mention the many ways he would have died in those alternate worlds if he’d been a normal human).

This new world was an interesting one. Were it one of his firsts, he would have been excited. But Harry had seen too many realities, had grown up too much, to see the ninja  _children_ as anything less than depressing. Sure, he’d fought a war at that age, but it hadn’t been right and it still wasn’t right.

Shaking his head, Harry finally gave into the tugging in his gut and walked away from the strange view of the heads on the mountainside overlooking the village. He'd spent enough time sight-seeing, now he had a problem to fix—whatever that problem was.

The tugging led him to a grassy hill, atop which lay a boy, perhaps sixteen, with brown hair tied up and a fishnet shirt.

Harry observed the boy. Death never gave him much information. He was there to fix  _something_ but the what remained to be discovered.

"You may as well reveal yourself," the boy spoke suddenly.

Harry froze. He was wearing the Invisibility Cloak that, now that he was Master of Death, covered him completely from head to foot and muffled everything from his scent to the sound of his heartbeat. 

"Your seem to be invisible," the boy continued. "But your footsteps still leave indents in the grass." He sighed and slowly sat up. "Are you here to try to kill me?"

Harry pulled the Cloak off. “No.”  _Probably not_.

The boy stared up at him with intelligence behind a dull brown gaze. “Why are you here then?”

"To help you," Harry said. He flopped onto the grass next to the boy. "What’s your name?"

The boy studied him for a moment longer before answering. “Nara Shikamaru.”

"Nice to meet you. I’m Harry Potter." He paused, rubbing the Ring that wouldn’t ever come off his finger. "Death hangs over you."

Shikamaru’s eyes narrowed. “Death hangs over us all.”

"True." Harry felt a spark from the Ring and he glanced at it, telegraphing his thoughts. "Who was Asuma?"

Shikamaru closed his eyes, but like every person Harry’s  _gut_ led him to, the boy answered. Maybe he, like all the others, was just that desperate—or maybe something about Harry made them all trust him.

"Asuma was my mentor."

"I’m sorry for your loss."

Shikamaru didn’t answer.

"I can’t bring him back, but I can speak to him and pass on a message, if you wish."

Shikamaru shook his head, scratching off the easiest possible task Harry could have had. He suppressed a sigh.

"What would bring you peace, then?" Harry tried.

"Nothing," Shikamaru said. "Except the death of the man who killed him."

"What’s his name and where might I find him?"

Shikamaru huffed. “It’s easier to just show you.”

They walked along the city streets until they reached a large complex. The people there looked similar to Shikamaru, and greeted him with familiarity. Harry earned several curious looks, but he stoutly ignored that. He was a stranger in a strange land, after all.

In the back, in the woods behind the compound, Shikamaru pointed to a mound of dirt. “He’s there.”

But Harry didn’t need to be told that. He could feel the wrongness of it already. This, he knew now definitely, was why he’d been brought to this world.

He waved his hand and the dirt flew in the air, swirling and unburying the creature underneath. 

The head, for it was only a head, spat at Shikamaru as soon as it was unearthed. “Here to gloat, fucking heretic?”

"What’s his name?" Harry asked.

"Hidan. He worships a supposed god, Jashin, who grants him immortality."

"Ah." Harry ignored the head’s cussing and waved his hand to float it closed to him. He pulled the Elder Wand out of his jacket and pointed it at Hidan’s forehead. "You’ve lived long enough," he said. "Death would like to greet you now."

Hidan continued to shout at him, but Harry focused only on his purpose. “ _Avada Kedavra_ ,” he murmured.

With a flash of green, the life in Hidan’s eyes was gone. Harry levitated the now dead head back into its hole and reburied him with care.

When he turned back to Shikamaru, the boy was smoking.

"Those will kill you," he said.

"Will I see you again when I die?" Shikamaru countered and took a long drag.

Harry smirked. The smart boy had already figured it out. “Maybe,” he said. He didn’t admit that he’d like that.

After all, he had many more worlds to visit (hopefully a great many) before Shikamaru died. By then, who knew if he’d remember him?

He had a feeling he would though.

With a goodbye nod, Harry pulled his Cloak back on.

As he passed the boy, he heard felt more than heard the soft, “Thank you.”

And then he was gone.


End file.
